


tear-stained cheeks and fractured hearts

by pouty_hoseok



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Background Relationships, Best Friends, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Crying, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Heartbreak, How Do I Tag, Jung Wooyoung-centric, Love Confessions, M/M, Metaphors, Mutual Pining, Pining, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:13:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26791192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pouty_hoseok/pseuds/pouty_hoseok
Summary: In retrospect, it really is Wooyoung’s fault for falling in love with his best friend, someone who also happens to be a notorious heartbreaker.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San & Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 18
Kudos: 158





	tear-stained cheeks and fractured hearts

Love is bullshit and no one can tell Wooyoung otherwise. He knows, yes, that there are two and probably even more sides to the wondrous thing, but it feels as if he’s only ever been pricked by the thorns. 

Love, to someone like Jung Wooyoung, is not what people claim it is. Wooyoung doesn’t know the love that has your heart fluttering when the object of your affections smiles at you and kisses you softly, lips pressing against your own in a gentle way that sends swarms of butterflies into flight. Wooyoung doesn’t know what it’s like to have flowers handed to you as laughter bubbles out of your chest before you’re taken out on a date that ends with you both cuddling together, whispering to each other about the future as if you have any idea about what it holds. That side of love - sue him for being metaphorical and poetic as he wallows - is like the bright red petals of the rose, soft against the skin of the bearer as a sweet scent oozes from the center. 

Wooyoung has seen it, though he can’t quite say he’s ever truly experienced it. He’s far more used to the thorns of the flower stabbing into his palms as blood drips from his skin, lazy as it slowly trickles down, over his arm and the stem. Yet, like a mindless, witless fool, Wooyoung’s hand remains clenched; the thorns dig into his skin, the pain always so stinging and fresh despite dealing with it for years, and he holds the rose like a child and their favorite toy. He stands with the flower as the smell and the delicate color of the petals tease him, laughing at his lack of self-preservation. 

And yet, despite all of the teasing and all of the pain, Wooyoung can’t seem to let go. Because San will laugh or smile or hold him extra close or his hand will subconsciously reach for Wooyoung’s or his kisses will be softer and, for reasons he can’t explain, they’ll feel like they’re made for Wooyoung. And San will pull him closer, will reach for him and rest a hand on the back of his neck while the other holds his hip, their lips moving together. 

So he continues to fall, like the hapless, heartbroken idiot he is. 

And in retrospect, it really is Wooyoung’s fault. And Wooyoung knows this, so, because he doesn’t have much of a choice, Wooyoung is, for one of the first times in his entire life, taking responsibility. Hooray. 

But really, sarcastic and (slightly) self-deprecating joking aside, it is, in fact, Wooyoung’s fault. Then again, he knows few situations where it isn’t. Wooyoung seems to have a knack for trouble, and Yeosang (his other best friend) tends to be the one to get him out of it (though that’s only if Seonghwa or Hongjoong isn’t around to do so.). 

But the pickle Wooyoung’s found himself in is not, unfortunately, one that someone else could help him out of, even if he could somehow get over his embarrassment and explain the situation. But how would Wooyoung ever explain that he and San are secretly sleeping with each other but they’re still friends and it’s a no-strings-attached arrangement even though Wooyoung’s been crushing on San for too long?

Yeosang would laugh at him if he told him he had to tell him something embarrassing and he’d remind Wooyung that he’s never had any sort of shame in the past. 

Wooyoung sighs, shaking his head. Their dorm - his and San’s to be exact - is crowded full of people. San and Wooyung happen to both be social butterflies and, because of this, having a fun night at home and deciding to invite people is a bit difficult. He can see Yeonjun and his boyfriend talking to each other near Beomgyu and Taehyun, two of Yeonjun’s friends. He’s pretty sure Hueningkai is around here too, somewhere in their dorm. Changbin is in the middle of a push-ups contest while Seungmin sits on his back and cheers him on, Felix perched on top of Chan. Minho and Jisung are probably in the bathroom making out or worse, and Jeonggin is sitting beside Hyunjin. Seonghwa is in the kitchen, another place where Minho might be, and Hongjoong is definitely with him. Jongho is trying and failing to serenade Yeosang while Yunho and Mingi are hogging the living room and having a dance-off with none other than San. 

Wooyoung’s lips quirk up in a smile and he rests his chin on his hand, watching his friends. 

“What are you still  _ doing _ here, Woo?” San says, coming over and tugging him up from the couch. Wooyoung laughs, his heart aching in the best and worst way as he gets up. Mingi and Yunho laugh and grin at him, sandwiching him between them. San yells something and then a hand grabs his hair and Wooyoung is yanked back to be by his best friend. He shoots San a glare and the older laughs, hugging him and kissing the side of his neck. Platonically, of course. 

Nonetheless, Wooyoung pulls away, his eyes darting around. San acts like he’s blind to it as he grabs Wooyoung by the hips and pretends to dance with him, their lips painfully close. 

And really, the pathetic thing is that they’ve kissed each other before. Far too many times to count, yet the thought of San brushing his lips over Wooyoung’s has the younger boy’s heart thundering loudly. Wooyoung should be over this, right?

He bites back a sigh and tries to enjoy himself. He still can, despite being hopelessly in love with San, and he grins as San begins to dance goofily, laughing as the younger makes silly faces and knocks his hips against Wooyoung’s. 

_ I love you _ , he thinks, the words dancing on the tip of his tongue. San looks drop-dead gorgeous, even though he’s wearing a green clay mask and his thick black hair is tied in a sprout on the top of his head while he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants that need to be washed and a sweatshirt with a stain that looks suspiciously like it’s from one of the countless ramyun cups they consume as college students. 

“What?” San says. Wooyoung laughs and reaches out to run his thumb through the mask. 

“You just look stupid,” he says. It’s not even a lie. San laughs and swipes his own thumb through the mask, beginning to chase Wooyoung around the cramped dorm. Soobin yelps in surprise and Hueningkai releases an unholy screech as Taehyun drinks whatever’s in his red solo cup. Beomgyu appears behind him and looks surprised for a moment before he goes back to talking with his boyfriend. Seungmin leaps in the air when they pass and Changbin grunts in protest, Chan laughing when Felix rolls off of his back. Seonghwa squawks angrily and hits both San and Wooyoung on the backs of their heads with a spatula while Hongjoong leaps onto the counter. Jeonggin laughs and joins in while Hyunjin makes a disgusted expression and checks his nails. Wooyoung stumbles down and San collides with him while Jeonggin lands on top of them both. 

“You’re heavy,” Wooyoung whines before jerking his knee into San’s crotch. The other boy groans and rolls back while Jeonggin gets up laughing to rejoin Hyunjin on the couch. Yeosang only looks mildly alarmed by their behavior and Jongho is peeking over his shoulder. 

“I wanna have kids, you know that, right?” San says jokingly. Wooyoung huffs as he gets up and dusts himself off. 

“Good luck with that,” he says, and San whines. Wooyoung shakes his head and heads back to the living room where Seonghwa’s bringing the food out with the help of Hongjoong. 

After the others leave, Wooyoung finds himself pressed to the wall, San’s leg shoved between his thighs as they kiss. Hands pin his wrists above his head and Wooyoung kisses San as hard as he can, his heart pounding. San tastes like dinner and something sweet and so very San that makes Wooyoung want to cry. The hand holding his wrists lets go of them in favor of roving over his body, one sliding under his shook as the other laces in his hair and  _ pulls _ until Wooyoung whines. San chuckles and just kisses him harder and it takes everything in Wooyoung to keep from pulling away and professing his love. 

As per usual, though, Wooyoung remains quiet. And as he lies in bed with a sleeping San, an ache in both his chest and his abdomen, he can’t help but wonder why on earth he’s so hungry to be tortured by love. 

The next morning, San wakes up first and goes to shower. The idiot got himself landed in an 8 o’clock class, so he always gets up before Wooyoung and heads out. 

Wooyoung is, embarrassingly enough, used to waking up alone. He sighs and shakes his head at himself as he stretches and shakes his head, walking over to the bathroom. He showers and then gets dressed, eating breakfast alone. He gets up and heads to class around nine-thirty, feet dragging behind him. 

He gets back sometime in the late afternoon, finding San already sitting at his desk, glasses perched on his nose and his brow scrunched cutely as he works. Wooyoung smiles despite himself as he grabs a snack and begins to shovel his face, perching on top of the counter as he watches San work. 

“Wanna watch TV later?” he says. 

San doesn’t answer. 

“Sannie?” Wooyoung says, tilting his head. San hums an answer. 

“Maybe later, Woo,” he says. He stops and looks up, turning over his shoulder to face Wooyoung. “You goin’ to Yeonjun’s party this Friday?” 

Wooyoung hums and shrugs. Yeonjun’s always had a knack for, well, everything it seems, so he’s ended up in a frat house where he throws parties. Wooyoung likes going to Yeonjun’s parties. They’re fun and he can have fun and pretend he’s not pining hopelessly over his best friend. 

Yet, instead of saying yes, Wooyoung shakes his head. 

“Can’t,” he lies. San knows all of his little tells by now - the way his eyes swoop around the room and how he’ll bite his lip for a millisecond before letting go of it and how he flicks the air. “Got a test.”

And San, for reasons Wooyoung wishes he could possibly understand, nods, remaining very uncharacteristically quiet. Wooyoung frowns at him before dismissing it. San might just be tired or something. He seems to have a lot of homework. 

He sighs inwardly before grabbing a hair tie and pulling his hair back into a small ponytail, a few black strands framing his face as he goes to sit down and get his things out. 

They eat leftovers from the night before, then they curl up on Wooyoung’s bed and watch Netflix on his laptop until they’re both yawning sleepily.

“Night, Woo,” San murmurs, kissing his cheek as he gets up. Wooyoung should really be used to San doing that, as he’s done it since they were little kids, yet he can’t seem to quell the hopeful fluttering of his heart. He mumbles a ‘good night’ and watches as San leaves, before finally letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sighs and closes his laptop, plugging it in before taking his glasses off and placing them on his bedside table. Wooyoung curls up under the covers and closes his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep. 

He wakes up and feels like going back to sleep. And Wooyoung would, really, if not for the voices. He rolls onto his side and thinks a bit before getting up and padding softly out to the living room. 

Sitting on the couch, San has his phone pressed to his ear, his back to Wooyoung. The younger bites his lip and steps back once, twice, but then he hears something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Yeah, I might move out,” San says. It’s casual, thrown around as if it’s totally normal that he’s thinking about that. “I just - I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s getting harder every day.” 

Wooyoung bites his lip and steps back, hiding in the shadows as he listens. 

“What? No, it’s not that - well, okay, maybe it’s that, but I just . . . it’s not fair to him if I stay, you know? I don’t wanna do that to him. It just feels like - I dunno, like it’s super manipulative.” 

_ What? _ Wooyoung thinks, frowning. 

“No, no, he’s not doing anything like that. Okay, and so what? Yeah, yeah. I dunno. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just best if I cut off contact. Better for moving on, you know? It’s easier when you don’t see them.” 

Wooyoung dashes behind the wall and presses a hand over his mouth as his chest begins to close up. Stupidly, thoughtlessly, tears begin to drip slowly down his cheeks, sliding over his skin and landing on the hardwood floor beneath his feet. Wooyoung feels his chest closing up and he tries to hide in the shadows, trying to collect himself before he heads back to his room. 

He wakes up with puffy, red-rimmed eyes and a sickening feeling weighing his stomach down. Wooyoung sighs and gets up, rubbing his face with his hands as he drags his feet to get to the bathroom. He grabs some clothes on his way in and then strips, glaring at himself in the mirror. Wooyoung gets in once the water is hot enough, tilting his head back and letting out a near-silent sigh that the sound of the shower drowns out. The water cascades over his body and Wooyoung uses it as the best distraction he can, trying desperately to avoid thinking about the possibility of San moving out. 

_ How could he do that, though? _ he thinks.  _ After years of being friends with each other, he’s moving out? How? _

_ Because you fell in love with him, dumbass, _ another part of his brain snaps. Wooyoung’s hands fall to his sides and he frowns, water sliding down his skin. 

_ Well, _ he thinks as he shakes his head,  _ that’s a problem.  _

Honestly, though, there really isn’t anything that Wooyoung can do. He can’t magically turn his feelings off because, believe him, he would’ve done it  _ years _ ago if he could. 

“Aw, shit, dude, that sucks,” Yeonjun says, resting his chin on his palm. Wooyoung groans and drops his head onto his arms. 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he says. A reassuring hand rubs his back and Wooyoung groans. 

“You should go to his party,” Yeosang says and Wooyoung looks up to glare at him. 

“I already told Sannie  _ yesterday _ that I wasn’t going to,” he says. 

Yeosang scoffs. 

“Young-ah, just  _ go _ . Find someone to hook-up with or something. If you wanna move on, you do know that you have to actually  _ try _ ,” Yeosang says. Wooyoung groans and begins hitting his head against his arms. Changbin laughs and then water shoots out of his nose. Yeonjun cackles as he hits him on the back while Changbin laugh-cries. Yeosang snorts and Wooyoung feels his lips twitch. 

“Remember that bad break-up Yeonjun had last year?” Changbin says when he recovers. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and dodges away from Yeonjun’s swinging hand. “And he couldn’t get out of bed because the only thing he could do was cry and sob-”

“Shut up!” Yeonjun hisses and Changbin laughs as he shoves him away. 

“Anyways, as I was saying, remember that he was a total mess? You do? Yeah, and then he hooked up with Soobin and they’ve been the most disgusting couple in the entire world ever since.” 

Wooyoung looks up and scowls. 

“Not everyone meets their soulmate while mourning a lost relationship,” Wooyoung says. “Also, San  _ is _ my soulmate.” 

“And he asks why he hasn’t moved on,” Yeosang grumbles. Wooyoung kicks his shin. Changbin snorts more water through his nose and then they’re all laughing, even Wooyoung because it’s something he’s actually good at. 

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, right?” Yeonjun teases, pointing in the direction of San. Wooyoung blushes and looks away, ignoring a suffering Changbin. 

“You’re gonna mess up my makeup!” Yeosang yells when Changbin coughs again. 

“Aw, just get your bodyguard of a boyfriend or something,” he groans. Wooyoung snorts and then San is sliding into the seat beside him, an arm wrapping itself around his shoulders. 

“What’s up, gays?” he says and Changbin chokes. 

“I am  _ not _ -”

“You are virtually married to Seungmin. Please,” San says. He frowns. “You, uh, what happened?” 

“Not all of us know how to control the things our bodies do,” Yeonjun says as he picks at his nails. The little bi flags he’s painted on them are chipped. “He’s been snorting water out of his nose all day, don’t mind him.” 

San looks over. 

“Really?” he says, pretending to act absolutely flabbergasted. Changbin tries to clamber over Wooyoung and Yeosang while San cackles. 

“You little shit-”

“Am I  _ really _ the little one here, though?” he teases, now crouched under the table between Wooyoung’s legs. Changbin screeches and Yeonjun grabs him. 

“He’s got a point! He’s got a point!” 

“Shut up, frat boy!” 

Yeonjun scowls. 

“As the honorary normal member of this friend group,” Yeosang says, raising his voice, “I’m telling all of you to shut the fuck up!” 

“Says the one who made an army of gummy bears!” Yeonjun says. Yeosang scowls. 

“It was one time!” he retorts. Wooyoung groans and then he falls someone tugging on his backpack. 

“Let’s ditch them,” San whispers in his ear, his breath hot as it ghosts over his neck. “Come on, Woo.” 

Wooyoung laughs and rolls his eyes but he gets up and they walk off, arms around each others’ shoulders. 

“This place is awful,” Wooyoung says as he eats another fry. San laughs. 

“It’s cheap, though,” he says. He draws something in ketchup on Wooyoung’s cheek, drawing a shriek from the younger boy. He reaches over and socks him in the arm. 

“You ass,” he says. San laughs and grins at him. His black hair is pushed back from his face and he’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Wooyoung tries to ignore how it feels like a date. 

“What’s your next class?” San says, eating another fry. Wooyoung shrugs. 

“Dunno. I think I have dance, though.” 

San hums.

“Want me to pick you up?” he says, and Wooyoung snorts. 

“In what?” he says. “On your bike?” 

San shrugs, humming again. “Sure,” he says. “I don’t see why not. You scared?” 

Wooyoung scoffs and shakes his head, rolling his eyes at the other. 

“Whatever you say, emo boy,” he teases and San laughs, pushing his hair back from his face with one hand. He matches the stereotype of “emo” pretty well - he’s even got a stupid leather jacket to pull it all together. Wooyoung, on the other hand, tends to be more bright and colorful, using pastel colors on days when he feels softer. San has a few colorful and too-big sweaters too, though he doesn’t wear them too often. 

“You sure seem to like my ‘emo boy’ aspects, though,” San says, leading to Wooyoung rolling his eyes yet again. 

“Oh, shut up, will you?” he says, and San laughs, a high-pitched sound similar to Wooyoung’s own cackle escaping from his lips. 

“Come on,” San says, shoving a fry into his mouth, “you know you love me.” 

Wooyoung, thankfully, doesn’t stiffen, though he'd be lying if he said he didn’t feel the briefest flash of panic. But San already knows and that’s why he’s thinking about moving out. 

“In your dreams,” he says. San laughs and shakes his head. 

“Oh, I’m hurt!” he cries. Wooyoung leans over the table and hits him while San continues to laugh like he’s not currently playing with Wooyoung’s heart like it’s one of those punching bags at his dad’s taekwondo studio. 

They leave a few minutes later, laughing and talking as they go their separate ways. And Wooyoung ignores how San seems to tug playfully at his heartstrings with a silly wink thrown over his shoulder, waving before he runs off to his next class. Wooyoung stands there for far too long and waits until he can no longer hear San’s footsteps as he runs in those big, stupid, clunky boots. He sighs at himself and shakes his head, turning around to walk back. 

Wooyoung practices until he’s drowning in his own sweat and his clothes stick to him like they did when he and San went out and danced in the rain just for the hell of it. 

Speaking of which, it’s pouring, and San, like the impulsive idiot he is, is sitting on his bike outside, waving at Wooyoung like the sun is shining and he’s not getting soaked by freezing cold rain. 

[ _ Friends _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x_gdoUXs9eI)

“Your idiot’s here,” Hyunjin says as he stretches. Wooyoung scowls at him and grabs his bag. 

“He’s not  _ mine _ ,” he says. He pauses and giggles. “Though I won’t deny the idiot part.” 

Felix scoffs and then Wooyoung watches as he lands on his chin with an annoyed yelp. 

“All right, ballet bitches, get outta here,” someone says from the doorway. Mingi stands beside Yunho and Wooyoung scowls at them. Hyunjin laughs and shakes his head. 

“It’s contemporary, you uncultured swine,” he says. 

“Felix and I study ballet,” Wooyoung says, frowning as he gestures to the other boy, now doing a split. Yunho laughs as he walks over and picks him up, drawing an indignant squawk from the younger. 

“Put me down, you oaf!” he yells. 

“My boyfriend’s not an oaf!” Mingi says and Wooyoung sticks his tongue out, Yunho laughing as he sets the other boy down. Wooyoung scowls and grabs his bag, walking out. 

“You wanna grab some dinner with us?” Felix calls as he leaves. Wooyoung shakes his head and points over his shoulder. 

“Nah, not tonight, sorry,” he says and the Australian shrugs. 

“Have fun!” Hyunjin teases and Wooyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes as he pulls a sweatshirt over his head and runs outside. The rain is loud and thunder booms in the distance as he reaches the motorcycle. 

“What’s up?” San yells over the rain and Wooyoung rolls his eyes as he tugs the helmet over his head and wraps his arms around San’s waist. The older nudges him with his shoulder. 

“What?” Wooyoung says. 

“Put my jacket on,” San says. “You’re in your-”

“You’re probably wearing only some cheap-ass t-shirt underneath,” Wooyoung says. “Just drive, San.” 

The other boy laughs, shaking his head as he pries his jacket off of himself and hands it to Wooyoung. 

“Take it or we aren’t moving and it’ll be your fault that I got sick,” he says. Wooyoung rolls his eyes as he grabs the thing and pulls it on, sliding his rain and sweat-slick arms through the sleeves. It’s noticeably warmer now that the leather surrounds his slightly thinner body, and Wooyoung sighs softly as he wraps his arms around San’s waist and closes his eyes, leaning his head on the other boy’s back. 

They get to the dorm in a few minutes and Wooyoung curses San for not checking the weather and instead placing his goth fuckboy reputation above his health. San laughs as they run inside, leaving his helmet on the table. 

“Go shower,” is what he says instead of responding to Wooyoung’s accusation. He shoves him with one hand and Wooyoung trips over his feet. “You stink.” 

“Shut up, e-boy,” Wooyoung says, and San laughs again, shaking his head. Wooyoung huffs and grabs some clothes from his room before walking over to the bathroom. 

He comes out and finds San sitting on the couch, wrapped in a towel and nothing else. Wooyoung huffs and shakes his head as he pads over and sits beside him, leaning his head on the older boy’s shoulder. His eyes fall shut and Wooyoung exhales softly through his nose. 

“Hey, Woo,” San says softly. Wooyoung hums, his eyes remaining closed. 

“Woo, do you believe in fate?” 

Wooyoung frowns and cracks a single eye open. 

“What d’you mean?” he says tiredly, exhaustion weighing heavily on his eyelids as he fights to stay awake. San giggles and brushes a hand through his hair. 

“Like, do you think it’s fate that we met? The stars and shit. You know, how - for Yeonjun and Soobin. How everyone says that they’re-” he yawns “-soulmates.” 

Wooyoung hums and shrugs, neither of them with much feeling. San laughs again. 

“Dunno,” he says. “Do you?” 

San hums and pulls him closer. 

“Dunno,” he says, drawing a soft laugh from Wooyoung. San smiles at him and his eyes crinkle in the corner while his dimples come out and Wooyoung looks up to poke one. San frowns and grabs his hand, and suddenly, Wooyoung’s heart is coming to a stop as his mouth dries at record speed. 

San stares at him and Wooyung feels the thorns of the rosebush he’s put his heart into tighten. 

“Woo,” San says softly, “what are you doing?” 

Wooyoung stares at him. Their lips are centimeters apart and Wooyoung’s nearly sitting in San’s lap with how close they are to each other. 

“What?” Wooyoung says, his brain unable to formulate much else. 

“What are you doing?” San says, stronger this time. Wooyoung blinks before he moves away, shrugging and looking down at his hands. San seems to scoot over and Wooyung watches him in the corner of his eye, chewing on his lower lip. 

“I’m - I’m gonna go,” Wooyoung says before standing up and not waiting for an answer from San. He walks off and then closes his bedroom door behind him, his chest closing up rapidly as he slides down and curls up. Wooyung rests his head on his arms and shakes, trying not to break down where San can hear him. 

“Look, Hyung, we love you to pieces, but, uh, are you sure we’re the right people to tell?” Hyunjin says. Wooyoung groans and covers his face with his hands. 

“Suggestions?” he says. Hyunjin and Felix look at each other before turning back to him. 

“Uh . . . can’t recall a time I’ve ever been in this sort of situation,” Felix says, sinking into a split. Wooyoung groans again. 

“Hyunjin?” he says and the other boy shakes his head, shrugging helplessly. 

“I mean, I think you should just tell him,” he says. “He’s gonna move out anyways, right? Besides, you never know.”

Wooyoung glares over his shoulder. Hyunjin shrugs again and continues stretching. 

Felix drags himself over on his elbows. 

“Look,” he says, “I think you should either tell him or  _ actually _ try to move on, since we all know that you haven’t. Just, like, don’t think about him. ‘Sides, Huening pulled some strings and he’s bringing his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s bringing his friends with him.” 

“Like, Hoseok-Seonbae? Doesn’t Minho know him?” Hyunjin says, getting up. “He was his dance teacher, right?” 

Felix hums. Turning to Wooyoung, he says, “Didn’t Jimin-Seonbae teach you too? And you, like, idolized him? Or something along those lines, I dunno. That’s just what I heard.” 

Wooyoung blushes and looks away. Anyone with eyes can see that Park Jimin, contemporary prodigy, is attractive. Wooyoung just happened to be lucky enough to be his student. Despite being head-over-heels in love with San, Wooyoung can admit that he may have had the  _ tiniest _ crush on his senior. San hadn’t particularly minded Jimin, though he didn’t seem to enjoy talking about the older. Of course, Wooyoung’s crush had been crushed when he figured out that Jimin was already taken.

“He’s got a boyfriend?” Wooyoung says. Felix laughs. 

“I was just saying that you might wanna see him again. I’ve heard he’s super nice.” 

“They’re  _ all _ super nice,” Hyunjin says. “I met Yoongi-Seonbae backstage during a performance and he told me I did a good job. And he later told me my shoes were untied. Oh my gosh, I made such a  _ fool _ of myself.” 

“You  _ always _ make a fool of yourself,” Felix says. Hyunjin gasps and puts a hand over his eyes, sighing loudly. Wooyoung and Felix look at each other.

“Traitors,” Hyunjin says. Wooyoung snorts and Felix laughs as he stands up. 

“You kinda asked for it, in our defense,” Wooyoung says. He sighs and checks his phone. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go. See you later.” 

He can hear them saying bye and he turns to wave over his shoulder before walking out. 

Friday rolls around, the day dragging itself along slowly. When they meet up for lunch, Yeonjun exclaims that Taehyun bleached his hair as if his own locks aren’t cotton-candy pink. When Yeosang points this out, sighing, and he also reminds Yeonjun that Taehyun’s hair was bloodred, Yeonjun groans and hits his head on the table. Seungmin is sitting with them and he frowns at the older boy while Changbin waves a hand and dismisses it as normal Yeonjun behavior. Yeonjun squawks, indignant as he tries to attack the other boy. Yeosang, who is, unfortunately, sitting between them, keeps them apart and calls for Wooyoung’s assistance. 

But Wooyoung is unresponsive as he watches nervously over his shoulder for San, his eyes scanning the crowd again and again as he looks for a familiar head of thick black hair. 

“You looking for San-Hyung?” Seungmin says, leaning around Changbin. Wooyoung nods. Seungmin hums. “I saw him head out on his bike. Think he went with, uh, what was it, Hye-Won, I think. Yeah, Hye-Won.” 

“Who’s she?” Wooyoung says. He gets up and grabs his bag, frowning. 

Seungmin shrugs while Yeosang, Yeonjun, and Changbin look up at him. A flash of panic can be seen in Yeosang’s eyes and he gets up, looking at Changbin and Yeonjun. 

“Maybe we should go,” he says, wrapping an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders. “Maybe-”

“No, what’s going on?” Wooyoung says, frown deepening. He shakes Yeosang’s arm off of his shoulders and steps back. 

“Wooyoung,” Yeonjun says, getting up as well. Wooyoung scowls at them and then he darts out, pushing the door open. 

Like a magnet, Wooyoung is tugged toward San despite having no idea where he is. His sneakers are loud as they slap against the pavement, the November chill rushing by as the wind tugs at his hair and clothes. 

San is wearing his stupid leather jacket again. Instead of his chunky, stupid shoes, he’s wearing a pair of combat boots. His back is to Wooyoung yet there’s no way he’d ever mistaken the form of San’s body for anyone else, not if he’s sober at least. 

And there’s no way that anyone could ever mistake the way he and the girl are talking to each other. Wooyoung knows San is attracted to men and women, though he doesn’t prefer labels, just like Hongjoong (though Wooyoung is pretty sure Hongjoong leans more toward the pansexual side). He tends to go out with more men, though, but it’s not like Wooyoung’s never  _ seen _ him with women. 

But it feels . . . strange. To see San with this pretty girl, talking to her and wearing his pretty, pretty dimpled smile that Wooyoung was once so certain was made for him. He blinks a few times, his feet planted and his tongue heavy like a chunk of lead in his mouth. 

Wooyoung shifts in place and stares at San’s back, unable to pry his eyes away. He remembers being pressed against the other boy’s chest, his legs wrapped around his middle as they kissed, sweat mixing as Wooyoung’s nails left marks down San’s back. He can feel San’s lips against his own, soft and sometimes chapped but always tasting of home. San’s laughter rings in his ears and his smile is tattooed on his eyelids when Wooyoung blinks, his voice playing on repeat like a broken record inside of his head. He can still feel the leather of San’s stupid jacket on his shoulders and between his fingers. 

And, without thinking, Wooyoung’s knees begin to wobble. He stands and stares at San and the pretty girl, choking on the air that enters his lungs through his gaping mouth, his heart shattering on loop. Wooyoung thinks his knees hit the pavement because pain stabs up his legs and his knuckles scrape on a hard surface, but all he can do is stare blankly at San while gaping at him. 

“Wooyoung!” someone says and San turns around, staring at a wide-eyed Wooyoung. Yeosang pushes through the crowd like some kind of angel, shielding Wooyoung with his body as he helps him to his feet and forcefully guides him away from the scene. Wooyoung is helpless to do anything but comply, his feet moving on their own as they leave the tiny shards of his heart on the pavement to be trampled on by the students who mill about. 

He sits at home for a very long time. And it’s not like Wooyoung’s even doing anything - he doesn’t honestly know if he can. He feels empty, like something’s been stolen from him but he doesn’t know what. 

[ _ Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVOhs_TSwsQ)

,Wooyoung swallows dryly and stares at the blank screen of his phone. San hasn’t texted him once and he snuck into the dorm to change while Wooyoung was out, going to get groceries with Seonghwa. 

He can see San sitting next to him. He can hear him laughing as he walks around, grabbing something from the fridge and sliding onto the couch beside Wooyoung, his arm wrapping around his shoulders and tugging him closer. San’s hands are always warm, the skin rough from his stupid motorcycle as they brush over the bare skin of Wooyoung’s shoulders. He might be wearing the sweatshirt he used to use for when he took up smoking for a year before deciding it wasn’t worth it, though the smell has remained stuck to the fabric even after all this time. Wooyoung would smell it, hidden under the thin mask of San’s bodywash and shampoo, maybe a bit of his cologne too. The smell of his bubblegum would slither into Wooyoung’s nostrils as well, sickly sweet and chemical as it fogs his head. San might have a wad of the stuff in his mouth and he’d chew it loudly, blowing bubbles in front of Wooyoung’s face to annoy him. 

And Wooyoung would endure it. He wishes he could, wishes he and San could cuddle on the couch like best friends do, laughing and throwing popcorn at the TV when the characters on screen do something stupid or annoying. 

He frowns at himself, sighing and letting his head fall back as his eyes close. He counts his breaths, wondering what on earth he’s still doing with himself and why he hasn’t yet tried to move on. 

And then, there’s a loud bang and the door flies open. Wooyoung stands up, ready to help a definitely drunk San inside, but he’s not even noticed as San presses his pretty girl against the wall and kisses her. Wooyoung stares at them, wide-eyed and hurt, the shards of his heart once again sliding out of his hands from his feeble attempt to offer it to San. San and his girl don’t even notice him, too lost in each other to care. 

So Wooyoung gets up and leaves. He locks the door to his bedroom and lies down in bed, facing the wall with a blank expression as he wonders what on earth is going on. 

He doesn’t understand it, really, and he’s being honest when he says that it doesn’t make sense. Because Wooyoung is - well, he and San are sleeping together, aren’t they? They’re friends with benefits, aren’t they? It’s how Wooyoung tricks himself into believing that he has some fragment of a chance, that he’s not hopelessly in love with San, that he’s not some sort of blind  _ fool _ who lives only because of the rose-colored glasses he’s placed over his eyes. 

Wooyoung curls up and covers his head with the blankets, shaking as he cries silently until he somehow falls asleep. 

The next morning, Wooyoung wakes to screaming. 

“No, because you can’t fucking do that, San!” Hye-Won yells. “You can’t fuck someone and leave!” 

“I’m not doing that!” San says back. “You’re the one leaving!” 

“You’re kicking me out!” Hye-Won says. Wooyoung burrows further under the blankets. “You can’t - you’re such a dick!” 

“Fine, great!” San says. “I know I’m a dick, yeah? Just leave, Hye-Won, it’s not that hard!” Wooyoung can hear something break and he curls in on himself, shutting his eyes tight and trying not to cry. 

A few minutes later, after the door slams loudly, Wooyoung can hear San coming into his room. 

“Morning, Woo,” he says softly. Wooyoung lifts his head from the blankets and blinks tiredly. His eyes are most certainly red and puffy, yet San smiles at him and Wooyoung wonders if he somehow got a makeover by smothering himself with the blankets. 

“Morning,” Wooyoung says as he gets up. San watches him carefully, something that might not be noticeable to someone who hasn’t known him since they were kids. 

“What’s up?” Wooyoung says. San raises his hands. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, shaking his head. He clears his throat, probably realizing how suspicious that sounds. His hands fall to his sides before darting into his pockets. “Nothing.” 

Wooyoung hums as he rubs his eyes and goes to the bathroom. He washes his face and brushes his teeth before changing, heading out to get some breakfast. San shifts around, chewing on his lower lip. 

“Hey, Woo?” he says nervously. Wooyoung hums in question as he grabs a bag of cereal and a bowl, then he searches for the milk. 

“Wooyoung, can you look at me?” San says. Wooyoung chews on his lower lip as he turns around, moving slowly. 

San stares at him, all laid out and bare, his brown eyes soft and sad. He looks like an old dog about to be put down, aware of its suffering and that it no longer serves any worthy purpose. 

“I’m going to - I’m moving out after winter break,” San says. 

Wooyoung stares at him. He has countless questions swirling around in his head, yet none of them are brave enough to come out.

“Where?” 

San blinks at him, surprised by the lack of reaction. 

“What?” he says, still rather shocked. Wooyoung swallows hard and digs his nails into his palms as he tries not to cry. 

“Where - where are you going?” he says, his voice raspy and thick with too many emotions and unsaid words to count. 

“I’m - I’m moving into Yeonjun’s frat house.” 

Wooyoung nods. San could be a frat boy if he wanted to. He can see it. San likes people, just like Wooyoung, and he’d blend in there. 

“Okay,” he says. He shifts in place. “We - we’re still friends, aren’t we?” he says. 

San smiles, relieved as he holds his hand out and loses the tension in his shoulders. 

“Yeah,” he says and Wooyoung feels himself continuing to fall, “always friends. Amicus ad aras, right?” 

Wooyoung laughs before he ignores the hand held out and grabs San, wrapping his arms around him. He laughs again, delirious as tears prick the corners of his eyes. 

“Amicus ad aras,” he agrees softly. “Friends until the altar.” 

_ I love you, _ he thinks sadly as San hugs him tightly, laughing and rocking him on his heels.  _ I love you and I wish you weren’t leaving, but I know I can’t get you to stay if I can’t fall out of love with you.  _

_ I’m sorry, Sannie, _ Wooyoung thinks as San holds him.  _ I’m so, so sorry. _

There is a clear tension between Wooyoung and San, though neither of them are willing to admit it. Wooyoung hates it, hates that San is leaving and he can’t get over his own unrequited feelings to make San feel okay. 

“Wooyoung-ah, there’s nothing you could’ve done about it,” Seonghwa says as he rubs Wooyoung’s back. Wooyoung sniffles and curls closer to him. 

“He just - he’s leaving and he knows I’m in love with him and he doesn’t - he’s not even going to reject me. He’s just - he’s just going to keep on . . . he’s gonna run away like he always does when people catch feelings. He’s gonna leave and we’re gonna act like it’s okay when I’m actually in love with him and - and-”

“Deep breaths,” Seongnhwa says. “Hongjoong, dear, could you bring over some more tissues?”

Wooyoung sobs loudly before he can hear Hongjoong’s answer, though it’s not like he really cares or anything. He’s just - San is leaving him. Finally, after years and years of being friends, San is moving out. Amicus ad aras, his ass. 

“You have that tattooed, don’t you?” Seonghwa says softly and Wooyoung sniffles and nods. Written in black ink on the nape of his neck, their little saying rests. Hongjoong helped write it for them, as neither Wooyoung nor San can speak Latin. He’s not quite sure where it comes from - it’s just always sort of been their thing, what they always say to each other. San has it tattooed too, in the same place as Wooyoung. 

“It’s pretty,” Seonghwa says softly, probably trying to keep Wooyoung’s mind off of his heartbreak. 

“You should - do you wanna stay over with us?” Hongjoong says. Wooyoung sniffles and nods again. Seonghwa gets up, then, saying that he’ll be making dinner. Hongjoong turns the TV on and they watch Netflix, talking about whatever drama Hyunjin recommended. 

“What are you doing for winter break?” Hongjoong says gently as they sit in front of the screen. Wooyoung shrugs. 

“Dunno,” he says weakly. “Never - haven’t thought about it yet.” 

“Do you wanna stay with us?” Seonghwa offers. “We’re not planning on going anywhere.” 

Wooyoung shrugs, sighing as he leans his head against Hongjoong’s shoulder. 

“Think I might go to see my parents,” Wooyoung says softly. “I might just want to say hi or something. I miss them.” 

Hongjoong hums as he cuddles closer to Wooyoung and closes his eyes. 

“Well,” he says, “just know that you’re always welcome here, yeah? You’re never a bother, okay?” 

Wooyoung nods, offering a smile. Yet, as he watches Seonghwa and Hongjoong, he can’t help but wonder how true that statement really is. 

[ _ Gravity _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vx3ghNFMrA)

Exams whoop his ass but what’s new? Wooyoung packs up as San gets ready to move out. And Wooyoung will be alone, but hey, that’s great, that’s fine, and he should’ve known that their relationship could only last so long once one of them caught feelings. So he helps San pack and he does  _ not _ cry in front of the older boy, but, if he hides his face and cries on the plane as quietly as possible, then it’s nobody’s business. Well, except for the little old lady who offers him a tissue when she sees him because he’s “too handsome to cry like that over some girl.” When Wooyoung explains that he’s gay because his brain isn’t working enough to remember Korea’s homophobia, the woman laughs and pats him on the back and tells him that the boy is stupid for not liking him back. Wooyoung thanks her and blows his nose before heading to the bathroom to wash his face. 

It’s nice to see his siblings. His little brother, Ji-Young, squeals and runs into his arms and Chan-Young greets him with a grin when they see each other. His mother fusses over him while his father asks him about school. He’s thankful that no one brings up San.

However, later, after Ji-Young is asleep, his mother brings him up. 

“How’s San, dear?” she says. Wooyoung stiffens and looks away. 

“He’s fine,” he mumbles. He chews on his lower lip while his parents and older brother share a look. 

“Did something happen between you two?” his father asks, the first to say anything after a painfully long pause. 

Wooyoung shifts in place before reaching up and wiping his eyes. 

“N-no,” he says, his voice cracking. “No, nothing happened and we’re fine and nothing’s wrong and everything’s okay and I’m fine.” 

“He’s leaving you, isn’t he?” 

Wooyoung looks up at his brother. The older stares at him. Chan-Young is in the military - he’s never been the most emotionally intelligent guy. Yet he’s picked up what’s wrong just from Wooyoung letting out the tiniest bit of his heartbreak. 

He nods and Chan-Young hums, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Do you know why?” he says. 

Wooyoung sniffles and wipes his eyes again. He turns to look out the window and sighs, his shoulders slumping. 

“He knows - he knows I’m in love with him,” he says. He puts his face in his hands and releases a loud and discordant sob. “God, I’m so fucking  _ stupid _ .” 

“Jung Wooyoung, do  _ not  _ say that about yourself,” his mother scolds. 

“Eomma,” Chan-Young says, “he’s going through a hard time. Now’s not the time.” 

Everyone turns to look at him and Wooyoung shifts under the attention. 

“He’s moving out of the dorm. Said - said he’s going to - to Yeonjun’s frat house,” he mumbles, eyes averted. “We - he said that we can - that we can still be friends.” 

“Have you told him how you feel, though?” Wooyoung’s mother says and he resists the urge to cry out because Ji-Young is asleep and they all know he’ll be grouchy if he’s woken up. 

“He already knows, doesn’t he?” Wooyoung says. He laughs bitterly and a bit hysterically before reaching up and wiping his eyes. “He already - he’s moving out because I’m in love with him. I  _ heard _ him on the phone. He was - just, why wouldn’t he talk to me? Why wouldn’t he tell me and maybe then I could try and move on or something, I don’t know! Just - does he not care? Does our relationship not mean - is it not - not that much to him?” 

“You should tell him,” his father says quietly and Wooyoung snivels pathetically. 

“What’s the point?” he says. “I don’t - why should I do that just to get my heart broken again? I don’t - I don’t have that much left to give.” 

“You’ll regret it if you don’t tell him, though,” his father says. “It’s better to have tried and failed than to have not tried at all, isn’t it?” 

“Appa, I have nothing left!” Wooyoung shrieks suddenly, unable to hold himself back. “I have  _ nothing _ . My heart is a bunch of little fucking pieces and San’s stomped all over them and I still love him because I’m a fool. A damn fool without a single sense of self-preservation so for my own sake,  _ please _ let me be selfish. Don’t tell me to confess because I can’t face rejection and you all  _ know _ that I can’t because I’m already on my knees and he doesn’t want me! San isn’t in love with me, okay?!” He pants heavily, tears rolling down his cheeks like countless little waterfalls. “I just - look, someone was bound to catch feelings in this relationship. And it just - it just had to be me. I was the unlucky - I was unlucky enough to fall for someone who could never feel the same because San doesn’t do feelings and shit and now - now we’re just . . . it wasn’t enough. So we’re breaking and soon enough, we’re not going to even talk to each other and that’s just - that’s just how life is going to go because it’s not - it’s not going to change because I’m stupid and feelings are stupid and they don’t just leave or die when you want them to, okay?”

His parents and brother all stare at him. Wooyoung gets up and wipes his eyes, his mood soured by the discussion as he stalks off to his room. 

He lies in his bed and stares at his phone, San’s contact pulled up. The little photo is a selfie of San from when Wooyoung got drunk at a high school party and made him swear not to tell. San had taken his phone and taken a selfie, demanding that he made it his profile picture. 

Wooyoung frowns as he re-reads their messages, trying to see the little signals he might’ve sent that showed how neck-deep in love with San he is. He thinks back to their time together, all of their interactions, searching desperately through it all to find when he flicked the first domino that led to this horrible mess of a relationship. 

Wooyoung doesn’t get much sleep that night. Which, let’s be honest, was expected. And San doesn’t text him but none of his family members bring him up or any of last night’s events, and for that, Wooyoung is eternally grateful. 

Winter break is nice. And really, Wooyoung hates the idea of going back with a burning passion. Because he knows all that waits for him is an empty dorm room and plenty of awkward tension. 

But, alas, Wooyoung isn’t allowed to stay with his family. So he returns to campus, his heart heavy and his steps dragging as he does. San hasn’t called and Wooyoung could use one hand to count the amount of times they’ve texted each other. Which, if San wants him to move on and Wooyoung's trying to move on, is fine. It’s wonderful, actually, and Wooyoung should wake up and open his eyes to see that San is doing this for him. 

And that if Wooyoung wasn’t so painfully and obviously in love with him, he wouldn’t have to. 

The unfortunate thing, though, is that Wooyoung is so  _ startingly _ aware of these things that it’s humiliating how he is still unable to let go of San. He’s foolish, really, and he knows this, yet he continues to chase after San. By now it’s instinctive - Wooyoung simply can’t remember a world or a time when he wasn’t in love with his best friend. 

He supposes, if he was to ever try and go down the line to maybe tell his past self to run from San, he could never pinpoint when he began falling. Perhaps he’s been doomed from the start, as that’s how it seems. Wooyoung can’t remember not wanting to be the cause of San’s happiness, to be the one always with him. And that’s love, isn’t it? Even if he was only four or five, he felt something for San, didn’t he? He thought of him as his greatest friend and he loved him, though it wasn’t quite in the same way. 

He supposes, though, that it’s pointless to reminisce about a time that may or may not have existed. Wooyoung sighs and stares out the window of the train, his bag in his lap. He checks his phone again and sighs, shaking his head when he sees the screen still appears to be empty. 

There is a very,  _ very _ heavy tension between him and San when he gets back. It’s rather overwhelming, really, yet Wooyoung lets San come over to hang out even though San is in a fraternity with Yeonjun and whoever else is there. Wooyoung doesn’t know. 

Things are . . . surprisingly kind of okay for the first few weeks. They act like friends and San keeps texting him and it’s fine. Really, it is. 

But, of course, everything has to go downhill. 

They’re at a party and Wooyoung is laughing and dancing and he’s probably tipsy because the world spins a bit but he still knows what’s going on. He grins at San and the older boy smiles softly at him, his eyes strangely soft and affectionate and melancholy all at the same time. 

“Dance with me, Sannie!” Wooyougn cries as he gets over to his best friend. San laughs and puts his cup down, getting up and allowing Wooyoung to drag him over. The music is loud and the bass thrums through the house, though Wooyoung can’t bring himself to care as he presses his back to San’s chest and wraps his arms around his neck, his head falling back to rest on the older boy’s shoulder. San’s hands find his hips instinctively and they dance together, swaying to the music. San’s body is warm and Wooyoung feels like he’s back home as he presses himself closer and shuts his eyes, sighing happily. 

It’s late when they finally lose control of their urges. Wooyoung finds himself pressing his lips against San’s, his fingers tangling in thick, black locks as San grips his hips. Wooyoung’s heart aches in an ugly, ugly way, yet he continues to kiss San because he’s home as their lips press together and he doesn’t know where or how else to get this feeling. So he lets San kiss him and he lets San lead him away from the dispersing crowd and up the stairs until they reach San’s room. 

The place is a mess, but that’s not what Wooyoung’s worried about. San sits on the bed and Wooyoung straddles him, kissing him harshly. 

And then, suddenly, hands are on his chest and he’s being pushed away. Wooyoung stumbles back with a squeak, waving his arms to try and catch his balance. San stares at him, wide-eyed and panting, his lips swollen. 

“No,” San says, shaking his head. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and groans loudly. “No, I can’t, no, no, no.” 

“What?” Wooyoung says. He’s sobering up scarily fast as he straightens and tugs at a loose strand of hair from his ponytail. “San?” 

San groans again. 

“Woo, I’m - I’m sorry, Woo, but we can’t,” he says and Wooyoung frowns, tilting his head. 

“What-” he pauses to wipe the saliva off of his lips “-what do you mean?” 

San gestures in between them with his hand. 

“This,” he says. “We - this - we can’t hook-up anymore.”

Stupidly, Wooyoung gets angry. But can you really blame him? San’s been doing all of this stupid, unexplained shit and Wooyoung’s been left to pick up the pieces; is it really that unreasonable if he’s getting angry? 

“Why?” he demands. “Why can’t you hook-up with me anymore?” 

“Because I can’t, Woo!” San says, his voice growing in pitch. Distantly, Wooyoung notices that the sounds of the party have disappeared. 

“Why not?” Wooyoung says. “Why, San? Why are you moving out, why are you leaving, why are you running from me? What’s going on?” 

“I - why do you care?” San says. “I just said I don’t want to sleep with you, okay?” 

“No!” Wooyoung says.  _ You can’t leave me, not when I’m barely holding on, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me.  _ “No, it’s not okay because - because you can’t keep doing all of this shit and not - and not explaining it!” 

“Why do you even care?” San says. “It’s none of your business!” 

“This entire situation is about  _ us _ ! Of course, it’s my business!” 

San balls his hands into fists as he breathes heavily, his teeth gritted. He’s glaring at Wooyoung and Wooyoung’s glaring back, though tears prick the corners of his eyes as he fights valiantly to keep from crying. 

“You wanna know why I’m stopping this? You wanna know why I’m leaving, why I’m running?” San says. “Because I love you, okay?!” 

Wooyoung feels time stop. San, however, is exempt. 

“Goddammit, Woo,” he says, wiping his eyes as tears cascade down his cheeks, “you just - I’m in love with you, yeah? And I just - I just need to move on and then maybe we can be friends again because I really do care about you as both a friend and as a crush so I’m running because I don’t - because I don’t want to lose you. And it kills me every time we do anything because I can’t stand the thought of - of not being enough and of you not liking me back because you’re my entire world, okay? And I just - it’s selfish of me to stay, so I left.” He sniffles and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m in love with you and I know you don’t feel the same so will just - just leave, okay? So I can maybe try and get over you and then we can be friends again, yeah?” 

Wooyoung stares at him, gaping. San looks at him, finally, and his eyes are sad and scared. 

“You - you’re in love with me?” Wooyoung says and San sniffles, wiping his nose. 

“Do you see anyone else I could be talking to?” he says sarcastically. 

Wooyoung blinks a few times. He stares at San with wide eyes before his own tears begin to fall. 

“You’re in love with me,” he says. He sniffles and wipes his eyes as San looks at him like he’s crazy. “You - you actually love me.” 

“Yeah, well there’s no need to rub it-”

“Sannie, I’m in love with you.” 

San stops and his jaw drops as he stares at Wooyoung. Now it’s hit turn to be shocked. 

“No,” San says. He swallows hard. “Say it again.” 

“I’m in love with you.” 

“Again.” 

“I’m in love with you.” 

San walks forward, so close that their lips are nearly touching. 

“Again,” he whispers, breathless. 

Wooyoung smiles at him as tears drip down his cheeks. He reaches up and cups San’s face, his thumbs running over his cheekbones. 

“Choi San,” he says softly, “I am helplessly, irrevocably in love with you.” 

San stares at him, a dazed look in his eyes. Wooyoung laughs softly and kisses his cheek. 

“Well?” he says. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” 

“Kiss me,” San demands, drawing yet another laugh from Wooyoung. The boy leans forward, though, and he kisses San as softly and sweetly as he can. San holds his hips and molds their bodies together, tilting his head for better access. And finally, after so much time spent falling, Wooyoung lands in San’s arms, exactly where he belongs. 


End file.
